Page 146 of Auctioned to the Mafia Don
“No.”
“I know.”
The quiet agreement steals some of the fight from me.
I hate that.
I hate that he is not trying to make himself out to be the victim. I hate that he looks exhausted enough for me to wonder whether he has slept at all. I hate that every fraction of me still recognizes him as home before I can stop it.
“You killed him,” I say.
“Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“You left.”
His gaze drops.
That is the only one that lands visibly.
“Yes,” he says again, more softly.
I fold my arms over my chest because I do not trust them at my sides. “Why are you here?”
His eyes lift to mine.
“I received a report.”
My stomach drops.
Of course he did.
“You had someone watching me.”
“Yes.”
“You have no respect for boundaries.”
“I have very little respect for boundaries where your safety is concerned.”
“That is not romantic, Stefano.”
“I was not trying to be romantic.”
“Then what were you trying to be?”
His silence lingers too long.
Honest, I realize.
He is trying to be honest.
“I was trying to make sure no one came after you,” he says. “Leon had men who were not caught. Some disappeared. Some have money. Others have reasons to be stupid. I needed to know you and the children were protected, and I came here because I wanted to see that for myself.”
“You could have told me.”
